Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Though she waited several minutes, she received no response. Decided to ignore her like Emma Miller? No problem. On to phase two of her agenda. Jane phoned Fiona.
“You want to interview a suspect tonight?” she asked the second her friend answered. “Reggie Belfry is hosting some kind of dinner party in the city.” Having spent a lot of hours stuck in bed, going over the photos and notes she’d taken, logging the chef’s upcoming events, she knew there was no better time to get a face-to-face with him.
Was he the lynch pin of suspects?
“A girl’s night?” Fiona chortled. “A thousand percent I do. Pick me up at six.”
“See you then.” Jane spent the day catching up on chores around the Garden as well as the cottage, trying to re-win Rolex’s affections and fortify her defenses against Conrad.
Without meds, “screw the curse” didn’t seem like such a brilliant idea.
Or was it?
Argh! By 5:45, she was cleaned up and sitting behind the wheel of her rental. A white, four-door sedan with all the bells and whistles but no personality. Conrad had taken the hearse to do the repairs himself. During the last case, she’d learned he liked to rebuild old cars.
By 5:58, her friend was climbing in the passenger seat. “I’m so glad we’re doing this, hon.” Fiona patted her hand. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” Several blocks later, she reached the highway exit. “What did you tell the sheriff about our activities? The whole truth?”
“Are you kidding? Tell a sworn officer of the law that the chef preparing our dinner is a suspected murderer just when GBH is sniffing around me once again? No. I stopped at a special girl’s night.”
“Ah, smart.” As soft as Jane had been feeling toward Conrad lately, she’d opted to go with total silence. Seriously. She’d often peered over at him for no good reason. Leaned her head upon his strong shoulder. Curled up against him just because. Yeah, silence was best. He didn’t need to know what she was up to tonight; he might start protesting her involvement like before and harken back to the car accident.
Wait. “GBH suspects you again?” Jane screeched.
Fiona flinched. “I think they might. Hightower called my attorney earlier today to schedule another interview.”
Jane’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “I am figuring this out, I promise you.”
“I know you are. That’s why there’s no reason for me to worry. Now, I’ve been thinking about your Lucy problem,” Fiona said, changing the subject. “If you want to win her back, you’ve got to do a grand gesture.”
Jane allowed the switch because her friend was right; she had this. Nothing to worry about. “That’s a marvelous idea. But what kind of—oh! I know.” The answer crystalized in an instant, and she wondered why she hadn’t thought of it before. “Lucy’s entire world revolves around her cat.” As it should. “Oliver, her ex, recently attempted to abduct the little beauty. If Beau and I pay this Oliver guy a visit, we can ensure Cartier is forever safe. Lucy will have no choice but to like me again.”
Except one nagging thought plagued her. If Beau and his buddies were right, and Lucy were a quote unquote bad girl, then she might have created the imaginary Oliver as an excuse to meet with Tony, because she’d planned to kill him all along. And what better reason to meet with Jane and get close to her car?
Gah! No. Wrong. She wasn’t heading down that road again. For once, she was going to think the best of someone.
“The perfect gesture,” Fiona said. “In fact, we can visit Beau when we finish with the chef. Better not to put things off, I always say.”
“Agreed.” They could also ask him if GBH had set up another interview with him and find out if he had uncovered any leads of his own. He’d been so quiet lately, preoccupied with his own mystery.
Determination spilled through Jane as she parked the rental at their destination. Hmm. The lot was surprisingly full tonight.
She and Fiona emerged and braved the chilly October night.
“Did you make a reservation?” her friend asked.
“I did.” Under a fake name. “But only because I didn’t want Belfry to pack up and go home when no one else showed up. I never expected this.” Strobe lights pulsed from the side of a graffiti laden brick wall, illuminating a crowd lined up around the building.
Jane and Fiona bypassed the throng to reach a man with a clipboard who stood at the door. Above him hung a sign that read “Feast of Horrors. Welcome to Le Sang.”
Well. Belfry had rebranded.
“We have a reservation under the name Nancy Drew,” Jane said.
He checked the clipboard, then nodded and waved two fingers at someone. She frowned as a woman dressed in a sexy cop costume came forward and held out a pair of plastic handcuffs.